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Human Again
"Lincoln!" she heard a shout and turned around to see Adams walking up to her.
"Hey Adams. How're the kids?" she asked, full well knowing he didn't have any.
His closed lips twitched, but he kept a straight face.
"Got anything else?"
"Oh c'mon Adams, just wanna see you happy. I've seen Charles at Tech give you the side eye once or twice."
The flush of his cheeks was worth it, and he even stuttered.
"You've got more important things to consider these days, Lincoln."
"I'm multitasking."
He shook his head, a grin breaking through, but he brought his mouth to a straight line before he let out a breath.
"You've got an appointment with Beltran."
She blinked, and then almost shouted out "What?!" but managed to keep an even tone.
"We're a day away from the first anniversary of V-Day. Washington felt - more insisted- that it would be beneficial for you to have a session-"
"I'm fine."
"You're in denial. You've beaten up your partner-"
"Dylan can take me-"
"Eggsy is your partner and you know it."
"He… pushes my buttons."
"As an agent, Lincoln, you shouldn't have any buttons."
She sighed.
"There's no way I'm getting out of this, is there?"
He only shook his head, fighting a grin again.
"Oh, you love to see me squirm," she said, "but wait until I tell Charles that you asked about him," she said, turning on her heel and walking away.
"You wouldn't dare!
"Try me, Adams!" she shouted over her shoulder.
With her knee bouncing out of control, Ana focused her attention on the print of Starry Night above Mrs. Beltran's head.
The therapist cleared her throat for the fourth time, as though it was going to instigate Ana to speak first.
But she knew the game. She made that mistake when she made the last minute session after learning Galahad was Eggsy. Mrs. Beltran acted as though she was victorious, Ana coming to her first.
"It's not a game, Ana," Mrs. Beltran said, finally breaking the silence, pushing her small glasses up her nose.
"I never said-"
"You act as though it is. Your body immediately relaxed after I spoke first."
Ana avoided her gaze and stayed silent.
"This isn't my first rodeo, hon."
Ana let out a sigh.
"What, you want to hear me say that I'm lost? That after taking Eggsy to Harry's grave that I don't know what we are anymore?"
"What were you before?"
Ana frowned, and shrugged.
"I don't fucking know… it was… we were just…" she shook her head and stood up, pacing around the room.
"I'm not going to finish for you, dear."
Ana rolled her eyes as she continued pacing.
"Fine, fine… we were in a right place. We weren't anything. We were just snippy towards each other, but I felt that there was respect, if that makes any sense."
"That's something..."
"But it wasn't. To me it was just another version of Hoover – me having to keep my guard up around someone that enjoyed pushing my buttons."
"And you his."
She sighed, but then nodded.
"You forget I know everything that goes on. I even know that your last mission resulted in such bruises on Agent Galahad that Agent Lancelot scheduled an infirmary visit, yet you were fine."
Ana stared at her, and Mrs. Beltran only stared back.
"Okay, I gave him the bruises."
"Care to tell me why-"
"Nightmare," Ana said defeatedly, sitting back down on the sofa.
Mrs. Beltran frowned at that.
"They're back?"
Ana shook her head.
"Not like before… they're not as frequent, but yeah, they happen. I take my melatonin, I drink the chamomile tea… but with him, we just happened to be in the same hotel room when I had one."
"Could you spending so much time undercover with Marsha Valentine be the problem?"
"Probably, but if you think I'll stop-"
"I know how important this mission is to you, despite my own reservations against it. But you need to address the stress that you are putting yourself through."
Ana stared at her.
God, she hated therapists. The way they were always… right. Just like mothers. But then again, Ana never had one.
Her foster parents were only in it for the money. They brought her and Natasha in when they were only two years old. And it wasn't until First Grade, when their other classmates had their own school supplies, outfits, and lunches that the both of them realized their 'parents' were milking the government for money while leaving two children behind in the dust. They made due until they were both old enough to get jobs to pay for their own food and clothes, on top of the scraps their foster panrets gave them. Whenever they asked the couple for help, they would only laugh and say that funds were thin as they ate out almost every night and held Sunday night football parties that Nat and Ana had to stay in their room for.
On their own dime they bought their own school supplies at the local dollar store. They kept a piggy bank of spare change to help pay for their lunches. Their entire wardrobe consisted of hand-me-downs from their friends and visits to the Goodwill and Salvation Army – noting the days when certain colored tags were on sale.
Suffice to say, she and her twin sister didn't grow up with 'real' parents.
The day of their eighteenth birthdays, Bert and Kate left on a vacation and never came back, leaving the house – and all of the bills – with them.
"I've dealt with stress before," Ana said tightly.
Mrs. Beltran nodded.
"Ah, the mysterious background I only know about from a file."
"There's nothing to know."
"Ana, knowing what happened to you and your sister while growing up with foster parents that abandoned you when you were-"
"There's nothing!" Ana snapped. She took a deep breath, holding out her hands, "I had Natalia, and she had me. That's all that matters. Mattered," she whispered the last word, closing her eyes for a moment.
Mrs. Beltran took a deep breath, and fixed her with a gaze. Ana blinked, but kept eye contact and said nothing. Mrs. Beltran only shook her head.
"It's been almost a year," she said, looking down to the notepad in her hands and flipping a page, scribbling on a new sheet, "it's time that you take another shot in the gun range, pun intended, with real bullets. Tomorrow, not today."
Ana blinked, unsure what to think. Mrs. Beltran only stared at her.
"The first anniversary of a traumatic experience is always the hardest. Your history of blocking things out won't work tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that."
Ana slowly sat down on the sofa, her body still.
"Time at the range, with real bullets, can help you."
"How is that supposed-"
"It's not 'supposed' to do anything. But holding a real gun in your hands, facing your PTSD head on, can only help," Mrs. Beltran said, scribbling on a small notepad and tearing off the page, holding it out, "And if that doesn't work, then we've got a few more sessions in your future, specifically about V-Day. And I know you're too stubborn for that."
Ana stared at her, and then looked to the small piece of paper in her hand. Mrs. Beltran moved her hand, the paper fluttering.
"Give this to Adams, so you can have access to bullets."
She took it gingerly, looking down at the scribbles of handwriting, but not reading it.
"Okay," Ana said softly, her heartbeat going into overdrive. She felt… played, but also relieved. Mrs. Beltran was good… she knew this would make her try.
"Okay then," Mrs. Beltran replied, nodding as Ana stood up and walked towards the door, "But, despite your progress in the range, we still have two more sessions, mandatory within the next week."
Ana nodded, staring at the door. Despite your progress… the last time someone had so much faith in her was Miriam… or more so, her other half, Natalia.
"You said tomorrow, not today…" Ana said brokenly.
Mrs. Beltran nodded.
"For the rest of the day, do what you want. If that means being locked up in your room here for the rest of the day, that's fine. If it means seeing a movie alone, going to a museum… what you need to prepare yourself for tomorrow. And trust me, Ana, I'll know if you don't go tomorrow.
Ana only nodded.
"See you for our next session, Ana. Good luck at the range."
"Natalia!"
She was staring down at her sister's body, limp and lifeless in her arms.
Her own mirror reflection… dead.
She knew what she would look like when she died. She was barely in her mid twenties and she knew a semblance of what her own dead corpse would look like. What kind of fucked up shit was that?
"Wake up!" she heard faintly.
She turned and saw Jeremy, feeling something funny on her neck. She slapped it away.
"Why are you still here, Jeremy? If I see your face again I will make sure mine is the last thing you see."
She turned back to her sister, and screamed.
She felt that weird feeling in her neck again, and then that phantom feeling moved to her armpits, to the side of her stomach… a burst of laughter broke through her resolve.
Her eyes flew open, catching her breath from gasping, crying and… laughing?
She shot up, her arms flying, disoriented from such a change in the horror she was reliving.
"Hey, hey! It's okay, you're alright, it's alright," she heard and felt hands grasp her arms, keeping them still.
She blinked the remaining tears away, Eggsy's face coming into focus.
"God, you've got a set of lungs, I can tell ya that," he sighed, his grip loosening as he stared at her.
More tears spilled and before she knew it she was leaning forward, her head meeting his shoulder as she let out a sob that shook her body as she broke down. He stayed still for a moment before she felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her closer as she let it all go, her arms weakly coming to his shoulders to hang on.
"She's gone," she gasped, shaking her head, images of Natalia rushing through her mind.
The first time they traded places in school to ace each others tests. Then the fifth time when they got caught. The times when they didn't even need to finish a sentence – somehow, they knew what the other was thinking. How hard Natalia cried when their foster parents packed up and left as soon as the both of them turned eighteen - despite the way they'd been treated. Natalia jumping up and down after she got her paralegal job at an up and coming law firm. Natalia jumping up and down after Ana had come home after passing the Kingsman 'Interview'– though for Natalia she'd gotten a desk job at a prestigious Security Firm.
Natalia, fighting her with anger in her eyes under the influence of Valentine's SIM card.
Natalia, gasping for breath as she bled out in her arms.
Natalia's dead eyes, staring up at her.
"I couldn't save her," she gasped, another sob shaking her body, "she's gone."
She felt fingertips brush her temple, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"I'm sorry, Ana."
At her name, she blinked, her mind short-circuiting to bring her back to the present.
She inhaled and then pushed away hard, hearing his 'woah' as he tried to balance himself. She backed up and stood up from the bed, turning away.
She stood there, catching her breath, the sounds of Eggsy catching his own somehow calming her. She sniffed and took in a deep inhale as she stood up straight, wiping her eyes.
"I'm going to wash my face. Think I'll be able to make it on my own from here, thanks for waking me up," she said in her deadliest tone as she rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She rested against the door, breathing in as she stood there in the darkness.
She slapped her hand on the wall, finding the light switch and flipping it, blinking against the light. She rushed to the sink, cupping cold water in her hands before splashing it onto her face. She took a moment staring at the running water before looking up to meet her own gaze in the mirror.
She flinched at the sight, seeing her own vulnerability written on her face. The red puffy eyes and nose from crying so hard, her hair frizzed from the pillow. The sight itself, after imagining Natalia in her nightmare had her eyes filling with more tears and she bent down to splash her face with another handful of water.
She repeated the process three more times before wiping her face on a towel and blowing her nose with a tissue, taking in deep calming breaths.
She turned back to the door, her hand faltering on the handle.
Even though she couldn't have been more obvious about wanting to be alone, she knew he would be waiting for her.
She took another deep breath, opening the door before crossing her arms tight across herself as she stepped through.
She wanted to tuck her head down, crawl into bed and then turn off the lamp as though he wasn't there – but she had a feeling that was what he wanted. Instead she kept her head up, but the mixed look of pity and something else she couldn't describe on his face almost had her breaking down again.
Instead she went for her fallback – anger.
"Don't look at me like that," she snapped.
He stared at her for a beat before giving a forced laugh, throwing his arms up.
"What in the bloody hell did I do now?" he asked.
"You wanted a show, you got it. You can leave now."
"Are you-"
"I'm not a fucking damsel in distress, so stop looking – hell, stop treating me as such!" she continued, not looking at him as she focused instead on her messy suitcase on top of the desk.
She heard soft footsteps – though paradoxically stomping and clenched her body tight as she felt him stand in front of her.
"You can't even accept a lick of help from me, can you?"
She took a deep breath and looked up, meeting his gaze head on.
"Nope. Especially not with you looking at me like-"
"Oh, so I can't even look at ya now?" he asked, his angry glare flaring.
"Like I said – not like that! I don't need saving, okay?"
His hands curled into fists, and she tensed even more. If he wanted a round three, she was sure fucking ready.
"Trust me, I know that."
She blinked, staring at him. She definitely wasn't expecting that…
"You're a damsel alright," he continued, glancing down at her pajamas, making her shiver, "but I know you ain't in distress, at least not the way ya think."
She almost laughed. She had broken down in front of him, and he was telling her this?
"What the hell does that-"
"I've still got two residual bruises from your last nightmare, just barely turnin' yellow."
At that she turned her head, but he reached forward and gently cupped her chin, bringing her gaze back to his – and for the first time Ana allowed his touch… and she'd never admit it out loud, but she appreciated him pushing her.
"And I just woke you from another one. You were screaming, Linc."
She stayed silent, not looking away.
He sighed.
"So, Jeremy and Nat share a nasty history, then?" he asked. He barely got to finish because her hand shot out to strike at him but he caught her wrist mid-air. She gasped but he held on, staring at her, through her…
She jerked away, moving to her suitcase to bring out her oversized red hoodie, putting it on and wrapping it over herself – something for comfort. If she couldn't cloak her emotions, she could cloak herself in something literal.
"Why do you hate me?" he asked, his voice soft, almost defeated.
She sighed.
"Hate is a strong word," she said, giving him a glance.
"Wha'eva you wanna call it, its been all for me since the beginning-"
"You… you know more than others know! Only Dylan – who I agreed to tell, rather than settling for cheap tricks like what my name is-"
"Which you won't give me-"
"The only person I allowed to call me by my full name is gone Eggsy!" she shouted, her voice ringing in her ears.
Silence followed.
She clenched her eyes tight, her hands coming to fists.
"You happy?" she continued, keeping her eyes closed, bringing her fists to rub against her closed eyes, "Got your reason now. She is gone," she said, keeping her eyes closed.
He still stayed silent.
She sighed and opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. Instead of pity, or whatever else, it was just him… looking at her.
She felt disoriented.
"You said something about leaving?" she asked, fighting to keep her voice from breaking.
His face fell and he shook his head, a hand coming up to cover his mouth before pulling it away. He shook his head and took a step closer, invading her space, his face inches away from hers.
They stood there, still as as stone.
"I don't hate you," she felt the need to say.
He didn't move, but his face flinched and then quickly turned into a grin.
"Where'd that come from?"
"Dylan, mostly."
He gave a short nod.
"I... you..." she faded off, turning her head to look away as she contemplated.
She felt his hand touch her cheek and she didn't flinch, didn't hesitate as she let him guide her face back to his with his touch.
His eyes searched hers before he frowned.
"G'night. Ana. Please, for your own sake, sleep well."
He then turned and strode out of the room, closing the door silently behind him.
Only then did she sink to the floor, letting it all go.
I know this seems like filler, but the best is yet to come! I've got good stuff coming (or at least it is to me). As always, thanks for reading, and leave a review! Even one word! Anything! Let me know how I'm doing!
Human Again by Kodaline